


Love, Music, Wine, and Revolution

by An_Artificial_Aspidistra



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Drunk Dancing, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7764400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_Artificial_Aspidistra/pseuds/An_Artificial_Aspidistra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly he found himself inelegantly pushed back against the wall of the club with Eames's breath hot and moist in his ear and the rest of his body, which was just amazingly hot, pushed up against Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the Inceptiversary Trope Bingo Challenge square: Mirror. Because I couldn't find a satisfactory consensus about what "mirror" meant (although the likeliest possibility seemed to be a character describing themselves while looking in a mirror), I decided that Eames and Arthur locking eyes with each other while looking into a mirror would count.

The pulse of heavy bass throbbed through the building as Arthur entered the dance club where Eames was studying their latest mark. As he hesitated in the doorway to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim light, he picked up the mark grinding on the dance floor in the middle of a party of forty-something divorcees out for a night on the town. His eyes continued to travel until he caught sight of Eames, sitting at the bar and alternating between conversation with a clearly too-interested woman tending bar and watching the mark in the mirrored bar backsplash. Arthur frowned and moved towards the bar just as Eames eyes met his in the mirror. He tried to disguise the lurch his heart gave when Eames immediately burst into a sloppy grin by frowning even harder. 

As Arthur approached his barstool, Eames pivoted untidily and hugged him around the neck with one arm.

"Arrrrrrrrrthur! Here you are, mate!" The bartender's face began to fall as Eames pulled Arthur into a closer embrace and spoke directly into his ear with the overly precise speech of the very drunk. “Thank god you’re here. Night's gone bloody tits up. While I was watching Gregor there on the dance floor, lovely Melanie here apparently decided we were hitting it off and started treating me to free doubles on each drink. I didn't notice in time and now I'm completely legless. I need you to help me get out of here without the mark spotting us."

Arthur's scowl was now approaching legendary proportions and he hissed in Eames' ear in turn. "What the fuck, Eames? If I'd known you were going to use this job to try to get off with random bar employees I would have kicked you back home to Mombasa so fast it'd make your head spin. Find your own way out of this!"

As Arthur began to pull away Eames brought his other hand around to grip Arthur's bicep and pull them face to face. "I didn't come here to get off with anyone, Arthur. I was just trying to do my bloody JOB when someone decided that my natural British charm was a green light to get me absolutely fucking pissed. She's not even remotely my type!" 

Arthur contemplated the eyes that were fixed pleadingly, if somewhat hazily, on his own and weighed what he knew of Eames honesty with what he knew of the man's professionalism. Reluctantly he concluded that while he wasn't certain that Eames didn't find five foot tall blonde women more attractive than he was letting on, he wasn't the type to jeopardize a job while they were in the middle of it. Especially a job with Arthur, who, for reasons he had yet to determine, seemed to draw out Eames' more professional side. Couched in a layer of sarcasm and teasing, of course, but when it came right down to it Eames never promised Arthur something he couldn't deliver. 

"All right, fine. Let's get you out of here so that you can wake up tomorrow with the hugest regret-hangover in the history of the world," Arthur grumped as he pulled Eames off the barstool. This resulted in somewhat more of an... armful of Eames than he'd been expecting. The man really wasn't lying about being several sheets to the wind. 

"What does my friend owe you?" He glared at Melanie with the implication that he wasn't paying full price for her attempt at alcohol-based flirtation.

When she stuttered that his tab was all paid up, Arthur tossed a curt thanks and what he was sure Eames was too drunk to notice was a terrible tip and then turned himself to the consideration of how he was going to navigate the two of them to the exit at the other side of the dance floor without the mark seeing either of their faces clearly. 

"All right, Mister Eames, let's get you out of here before this entire job is ruined."

Eames leaned even more heavily against him and slurred, "m'knight in shining armor. Lead the way, darling."

With Eames's arm draped heavily over his shoulder and Arthur’s around Eames’s waist, they made their somewhat erratic way toward the edge of the mass of humanity writhing on the dance floor. Just as they were about halfway through their circumnavigation of the crowd, Arthur caught sight of Gregor turning in their direction. "Eames!" he hissed, "he's looking this way we've got to..." when suddenly he found himself inelegantly pushed back against the wall of the club with Eames’s breath hot and moist in his ear and the rest of his body, which was just amazingly _hot_ , pushed up against Arthur. 

"Whass that trick you taught Ariadne when you were hiding from projections? Blend in s'much as you can and they won't even notice you." Though Eames moves were a little too quick and sloppy he still clearly had enough wits about him to provide them with what was likely to be the best cover short of dancing their way through the crowd, a feat Arthur wasn't entirely sure Eames currently had the coordination for.  

He did apparently have the coordination to press his lips to Arthur's jaw in a way that was so enticing Arthur realized he wasn't going to have any trouble falling in with Eames' attempted distraction. The only danger was that Eames would realize how very little he was pretending. 

As Eames' lips moved up the column of his neck to nibble on his earlobe, a sudden bump from the dancing crowd pushed Eames flush against him. Oh god, now Eames was going to notice how absolutely, blindingly hard he was, and there wasn't going to be any way he could pass that off as just good acting. But as the blood started to rush toward his face, Arthur gasped as he realized Eames was equally hard and saying Arthur's name in a broken moan as he pressed them closer together. For long moments the world consisted of nothing but the pure sensation of Eames' body against his, where Arthur had wanted it for so long. Arthur closed his eyes and threw back his head as his hands clutched frantically at Eames’s waist. Eames hips were already making gentle hitching motions against his body. His breath was hot and thrilling in Arthur’s ear and Arthur gave a full-body shudder at the sensation. His brain was somewhere in the middle of going completely offline when he opened his eyes briefly and noticed that Gregor was facing away from them, sandwiched between two of the divorcees. Arthur had the vague feeling that should be important that Gregor was no longer looking at them... Gregor wasn't looking! "Eames! We've got to get out of here. Now!"

Eames stumbled as Arthur grabbed his hand and started towing him to the exit, confusion followed by disappointment writ large upon his face. Arthur resolutely refused to make eye contact as they stumbled from the club and into a waiting taxi. After helping Eames in, Arthur reestablished a professional distance between them and gazed distractedly out the window. What did what had just happened in the club mean? Was Eames just drunk and turned on from flirting with Melanie? Was it possible that he was drunk and turned on because of _Arthur_? Before Arthur had reached a satisfactory conclusion the taxi had deposited them at their hotel.

He was going to take Eames to his room. Simply out of... collegial friendliness. It would be rude to abandon Eames to his own devices with no one to make sure he had Tylenol and water on awakening. That was all it was. Just sheer politeness. Not... anything to do with wondering what Eames would say tomorrow about what had happened tonight. 

Eames still hadn't said anything by the time they reached Arthur's door, or when Arthur helped him out of his shoes and removed his belt. Or when Arthur turned back the comforter and guided Eames under the covers. But just as he was about to get up from the edge of the bed (where he was resolutely NOT going to spend the rest of the night staring at Eames like some kind of creeper) he felt Eames grab his wrist.

"Darling, don' let me kick you out of your own bed. You’re safe from m’unwelcome advances," Eames eyes met his sadly before they began to droop closed.

Arthur continued to sit frozen for several seconds before he whispered, "but what if your advances weren't unwelcome at all, Mister Eames?” He couldn’t decide if it was fortunate or unfortunate that Eames was already soundly asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur tried to get some sleep himself, since they did still have a job to finish, after all, but it turned out that lying stiffly on the very edge of the bed to keep from snuggling in to his coworker’s back the way he desperately wanted to wasn’t especially conducive to a good night’s rest. When the Starbucks in the lobby opened at 6AM, Arthur found himself in line for two large coffees, a bacon and egg sandwich, a muffin, and a giant bottle of water. Then he returned to the room and resolutely did NOT watch Eames sleep while he ate his muffin and pretended to add some new data to his project spreadsheet.

He began to suspect Project Do Not Watch Eames Sleep Like a Total Creeper was less than successful when his entire body twitched in shock as Eames snuffled into his pillow and blearily opened his eyes. “There’s, um, toothpaste and a toothbrush in the bathroom and water, coffee, and breakfast over there on the coffee table.” Arthur had definitely sounded smoother, but he didn’t think his voice completely gave away the amount he’d been thinking about Eames’ hands and lips since last night. 

Eames voice was rough with sleep and maybe something more as he thanked Arthur and headed for the bathroom. He was… blushing? Surely not, thought Arthur. Still, Eames did seem to be taking longer in the bathroom than was strictly necessary even to try to overcome the effects of a hangover. Arthur began to panic that the speech he had worked on carefully during the small hours of the night wouldn’t be received well. Eames probably wanted to forget that last night had ever happened. Arthur should swallow his feelings and let him. He had almost panicked himself into closing his computer and sprinting out of the room to head for the job site when Eames emerged from the bathroom and cleared his throat nervously. 

“I want to apologize for last night, Arthur. I should have been more aware of what was going on with the bartender and stopped things before they ever got to the state in which you found me. I was too focused on collecting data on the mark and I almost jeopardized the whole operation. And as far as what happened on the dance floor, I know you don’t think about me that way and I shouldn’t have let myself get carried away no matter how drunk I was.” Eames stumbled to a stop and stared fixedly at the floor in order to avoid looking at Arthur.

Arthur thought that he had never understood the expression “and then his heart leapt” so well before. He swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat and walked over to stand in front of Eames. “Eames, I’m not mad, all right? Look at me.” Eames reluctantly met his eyes as Arthur continued. “First of all, I _know_ you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the job. Do you know why I work with you so often? Because you’re the best at what you do _and_ amazingly dedicated to your work, even though you like to make people think that you don’t care. And you didn’t jeopardize anything. I had your back. I’ll always have your back. And part of that is because we’re friends, but part of it is because I _do_ think about you the way it, um, seems like you might think about me. Did you think that was just you who felt something on that dance floor? I’m not that good an actor, Eames. I, um, honestly I’ve wanted something like that to happen for years now and I thought _you_ weren’t interested.”

Eames was definitely meeting his eyes now. In fact his mouth had dropped slightly open as well. “I… I think I may need to revise my opinion of my own acting skills if you haven’t realized that I’ve been absolutely mad for you since we met on that first job in Minsk, darling.”

“Minsk, Eames? It took me an entire month longer, until we were on that job in Shreveport. Possibly because you stole half of our architect’s portion of the payout in Minsk. Not that she didn’t deserve it, but it took me that extra month to forgive your audacity.” One corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked as he bit down on a smile.

“I do hate to see ineptitude unjustly rewarded, darling. Just think of me as Robin Hood, redistributing wealth to more deserving recipients.”

“Such as yourself?”

“Such as myself. But really, pet, if you’ve been pining for me since Shreveport, and I’ve been pining for _you_ since Minsk, we are, collectively, idiots and should start making up for lost time immediately if not sooner.”

“That, Mister Eames, is the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Arthur closed the distance between them with a kiss that began gentle and ended, several minutes later, just shy of filthy.

“Darling, if you let me have paracetamol, copious amounts of coffee, and that bacon sandwich now, I can promise you at least three more brilliant ideas by the end of the day.”

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

“Hmmm, holding me to you. I think I’m working on my first brilliant idea already.”

He was. And he did.


End file.
